


They're Gonna Love Me

by thearkwrites



Category: Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015)
Genre: Canon Divergence, M/M, Plenty of Fluff, a bit of angst, a bit of humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-20
Updated: 2015-10-20
Packaged: 2018-04-27 06:13:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5036947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thearkwrites/pseuds/thearkwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chop Shop and Fixit have a little talk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	They're Gonna Love Me

**Author's Note:**

> Pointless, plotless and ultimately senseless. I just wanted to write some Chopit.

Of course it would be Chop Shop who would break the awkward, unbearable silence.

Of course.

_Who else could?_

“Widge...”

_There he goes._

Fixit grimaces. He can't help it.

“...come on. Widge?” Chop Shop murmurs the minicon's nickname with so much concern and affection. Concern and affection that, Fixit believes, he is unworthy of receiving. After what he did to Chop Shop?

Unwilling to face the other, Fixit curls in on himself. Unable to bear the weight of his actions, Fixit buries his faceplate in his digits. Unwell with grief and worry, Fixit sighs and whimpers and occasionally emits an odd noise that sounds like a mixture of the two.

Chop Shop watches it all unfold in sullen silence.

Bad enough that he broke a good number of conditions of his probation without even meaning it. Bad enough that he had just earned the trust of the other Autbots (yes, he _was_ one of them now, thank you very much) and possibly lost it forever. Bad enough that he reduced his sweetspark—a tender and adorable little ravisher-in-orange—into this shaking mess before him.

And all it took was one night. One beautiful, glorious night of lowered inhibitions and ramped up desires.

Chop Shop opens his intake. “Widge...” he begins.

Nothing else comes out.

Chop Shop closes his intake.

He decides to go over his next choice of words. His processor kicks into overdrive as it pores through his nebulous vocabulary. Bits of slang and vernacular are picked and set aside for possible later use. Preferably when telling bawdy jokes to an already-happy Fixit. For now, he scoops the smaller bot into his arms and embraces him. Fixit offers no resistance so Chop Shop hugs him tighter.

Their corner of the junkyard is filled with nothing but hideous Earthen kitsch from yesteryear, making them the only two life forms still awake in this hour of the night. A small thing they can both be thankful for; explaining the situation to Denny or Russell or, worse, the other Autobots (of which Chop Shop is a proud member) would've been an awful experience.

Such would be the introduction of their sparkling-to-be.

And that would've just been unfair to the little bot.

“Widge, if it makes you feel any better,” Chop Shop whispers after a moment, after careful consideration of his words. “you're a better shot than most other bobbies in the Cybertronian sniper unit.”

That sounded better in his processor.

Fixit looks up at him with coolant-filled optics. “I'm sorry, Chop Shop.” he sniffles.

Chop Shop feels his spark cleave into two. “Cut the tosh, Widget! What's this I'm hearing coming out of you?”

“I've ruined everything for you!” Fixit all but wails. “Will they believe me when I say that it was me who same—blame—tame—” _CONK_ “came onto you? Will they report this back to Cybetron? What'll happen if someone comes through on a space bridge and sees you? What will they think? What'll the others think? The team, the lieutenant especially, is very understanding but...but—”

“Widget, I was a prisoner on the _Alchemor_ , I don't think I can go through much worse than that.” Chop Shop says, chortling.

“But—”

“Weren't you the one who said Ol' Goldbug was an alright copper? The real understanding sort?”

“Him and Grimlock and Sideswipe. Denny Clay and Russell as well. But the others...” Fixit sighs mournfully.

Chop Shop's relationships with the other Autobots (still one of them, thanks for asking) weren't quite as rosy as they were with Bumblebee, Grimlock and Sideswipe. Windblade treated him with cool indifference. Drift and Strongarm were, at their best, civil towards him. Drift's minicons were much friendlier but still a wee bit wary, no doubt following their Master's example.

But after this...

“Widge, if you makes feel any better,” Chop Shop says after even more careful consideration of his words. “you can name the little beauty when it comes out.”

The sniffling stops.

“They're gonna learn to love it, and they're gonna learn to love me. Because this little darling,” Chop Shop pauses to point to his abdomen. “and me ain't going anywhere.'Sides, splitting up a family's a crime in most clusters, y'know?”

The look of wonder on Fixit's fluid-stained faceplate is a thing of beauty. It's the look that says “ _Oh gosh, I can't believe anyone on this planet or this universe could care for me so very much, oh gosh stop, you're making me flush_ ” which, in Fixit's case, may be exactly that. 

Chop Shop basks in its glory for a good bit before he continues.

“I'm with the team and, most of all, I'm with you. Nothing's gonna keep me away from my Widget, my little orange sexual dynamo.”

Fixit jumps slightly when he feels a roving digit prod his interface panel.

“Like I said, you're a better shot than most, Gunga Din.” Chop Shop whispers slyly.

**Author's Note:**

> For the sake of this fic, let's just assume that Fixit introduced Chop Shop to the works of Rudyard Kipling.


End file.
